(Friends, I'm trying something a bit different in this post, the photos illustrate the story, but each is its own 'journey' so, for ease of reading, the blog might be read through first, then one might wish to go back and study the photos and their links)

I have Mrs. Rachel Wright to thank for more than the title of this blog post. Her amazingly rich, beautifully detailed needlework was also part of the inspiration for its content. To see more of her pieces please click on her photo "Nanook King of the Ice" above. To learn more about "delighting the eye" continue on....

Growing up in Southeast Alaska, a physical environment rich in inspiration, we spent countless hours playing on beaches where tide pools became worlds in which ‘bullheads’ ruled over hermit crabs, seaweed was nature’s bubble wrap (and made for a musical, if slippery, walk down the strand) and the search for sea anemones was a never ending Easter egg hunt.

Though my daughters (and son) are part of the "digital natives" generation, they also grew up in the rainforest and learned the joys of hiking and playing in the woods. With any luck their children will also come to know the fun to be had in nature's playground.

Woods and salmonberry thickets provided forts and ‘provisions’ to be gathered-in “before the storms came” (a favorite game). When the creeks filled with salmon in the fall, we splashed and slid over rocks trying to catch the slippery critters bare handed. In this world there was not enough daylight (even in an Alaskan summer) to do all there was to do. ​

If you look carefully you can see that the areas of 'black water' are actually thousands of salmon waiting below the waterfall for the tide to come in far enough that they can get above the falls and into the fish ladder leading to the Burnett Inlet salmon hatchery. My first few summers out of high school were spent cooking for and, later, working on the "egg take crew". I figure I helped 'birth' hundreds of thousands of pink, dog, and coho salmon in those four years.

We had no internet, and very little contact (compared to present day) with the ‘outside world’ and, as such, were limited in our exposure to arts and crafts. Local artists - Tlingit bead workers and carvers who, at the time, were struggling to keep their arts alive - and the few library books and television shows (sent to the village by videotape and broadcast from the school to the community two weeks behind the rest of the country) were our richest sources of artistic examples.

This lamp was made by my father who, though not Tlingit, had great pride in his Athapascan (a more northerly Alaskan native tribe) roots. He loved being able to combine techniques and materials (the piece of wood held by the beaver was found near a beaver pond and had actual beaver teeth marks in it). He passed away shortly before kiln formed glass became the rage, but I often think he would have made spectacular 3-D creations combining fused and stained glass. I love that I can carry on his passion for glass - I just wish he'd shared his drawing and painting abilities as well!

Now, decades later, I can spend an eternity following one rabbit trail after another online and never see a fraction of the information, inspiration, and sheer genius that exists in the human family. ​

Ceramics and kiln glass have many commonalities, and yet are quite different. Ceramic artists have a much more pliable medium to work with but ceramic and glass artists both cry when things blow up in the kiln. Above is the marvelous work of Jennifer McCurdy who has pushed the limits of the porcelain she's come to know so well. For more of her airy, gravity-defying pieces please click on the photo above to visit her website.

Hitomi Hosono is a ceramic artist that uses leaf and flower forms to cover her vessels. More of her beautifully detailed work can be found on her website (click the photo above to visit her site).

​Which leads me to an argument I’ve been having with myself, the answer to which was neatly summed up in a TED talk I stumbled across recently. The question of “at what point can one be considered an artist?” has been one I’ve struggled with for a lifetime. What many consider to be art – oil paintings, sculpture, and symphonic music come to mind – tends to leave out a gargantuan population of ‘craftsmen’ who’s creations are birthed from a place that demands no less discipline, joy, frustration, and compulsion as those more ‘formal’ arts.

This hot mess was created at the intersection of compulsion and inspiration - which resulted in no little amount of frustration. Sometimes a great idea (trying to capture "bubbles" in glass in a new way) turns into a not-so-lovely piece of scrap....though I do have an idea....(and so another experiment is born).

​So, at what point does a hobbyist become a craftsman and a craftsman an artist? Jamie “Mr X” Chalmers summed it up nicely in his TED talk: “Why X Stitch is Important” (have a listen – it’s funny AND inspirational – and gave me even further insight into how my husband has the patience to cross stitch his way across YARDS of aida). In a nutshell Mr. X says a hobbyist buys the kit, the craftsman begins to tweak it to his own liking (and may perfect the mechanics of the medium as well), but the artist develops a new pattern – one that tells HIS (or her) own story and presents their view of the world. I was thrilled to realize that, in time, I could get to the ‘art’ end of the spectrum – even without writing an opera or sculpting another “David”!

This cross stitch piece provided MANY hours of relaxation for my better half (whose artistic talents are expressed in the kitchen, in the form of baking). The fuzzball is shown for scale (she's a really large cat!).

​Another, more important, piece of Mr. Chalmers’ talk was this idea that art (in his case, needlework) can make real, substantial changes in how the artist sees the world and their place in it (really, please, go listen to the talk!).

The 'Resting Birds Kit' is just one of many kits and finished needlework products available at "Fine Cell Work". To learn more about how needlework is helping prisoners find a new lease on life check out this blog post about "craftwork in prison" by clicking on the photo above.

​In poking around the MrXStitch website further I came across some really luscious, delightful needlework by Rachel Wright (remember Nanook - the polar bear - at the top of the page?) who I then followed over to her website. She’s summed up beautifully the “why” that I’ve been struggling to describe about my own work with glass…"to delight the eye”. How perfect is that?

Rachel Wright's beautiful needlework is the product of patience and determination. Her account of creating this marvelous view of the 'streets' of Venice can be found by clicking on the photo above. Venice is, of course, a dangerous place for a Magpie to visit - so many sparkling colors and rich textures - which Mrs. Wright has captured here so perfectly!

​It may come from growing up in a more innocent age, in a place where life was fairly simple and at times achingly beautiful - but after all is said and done the greatest source of joy when presenting my work to others is to see their face light up, to know that I have ‘delighted the eye’ of the viewer, and perhaps brought a little lift to their heart as well.

"Borrowing" from ancient artists, I make a clay cast of a local petroglyph. The clay was bisque fired and coated with a release. I added subtle 'embossed' details including cedar, dogwood and seaweed to a sheet of iridescent glass, then the whole piece was fired over the clay form resulting in this glass version of the petroglyph.

In a sometimes heavy world, isn’t it nice to know that we can all be artists in our own right and bring a little beauty, inspiration and delight to those around us (and those – thanks to the webs – half a world away!)?

Author

I'm Kris Reed, the Magpie, a lifelong Alaskan, lover of all things sparkly and giddy about glass,